Meditations on the Meaning of Perfection
by Talos the Saiyan
Summary: It is the eve before the Cell Games, and the android of the same names is waiting for the sun to rise on the last day of the planet Earth. However, his wait is not peaceful, disturbing thoughts plague the perfect android, mostly pertaining to his own nature, and whether he is truly free of the shadow of his creator. One-shot. Complete.


It was the night before the end of the world, and Cell was standing in the middle of a rectangular collection of tiles, forming a ring in which he would tomorrow host the games named in his own honour. It was dark, the moon hung high in the sky, and the bio-android had not moved in some hours. His arms were crossed, his eyes were closed. He seemed dead to the world, but in truth, he wasn't anywhere close to that.

Cell was thinking.

Cell was always thinking. It was a fact of his nature he could not break. Designed by Doctor Gero, he was as close to perfection as mortal life could possibly get, and that was only if he bothered to consider himself mortal. The good doctor had valued a thinking tool for his machinations, and so, Cell was the type of creature who did not easily shut down, even though to all outward appearance, he was still as a statue.

At the moment, he was contemplating his nature.

The question was difficult, even for one of Cell's advanced intellect. It had taken up most of the night already, and seemed like it would last at least until dawn. Vaguely, Cell hoped that he would have his answers before the start of the Cell Games, but if he didn't, he would continue his quest until such a time as he did have them. The question he considered was important to him, very much a reflection of his own self. Specifically, he was considering the meaning of perfection.

''Perfection'' Such a simple little world. Bandied about so easily by those who had no understanding of it. Even Gero, in the end, had not truly understood what he had created. What did it mean to be perfect? How had someone as flawed, if well meaning, as the doctor actually given birth to true perfection? How was it possible?

He'd thought about it for a long time. Since his birth, on and off. His very first coherent thoughts have been concerned with his own perfection. The lack of it, the _need_ for it. Humans liked to think that they were a species ever in pursuit of it, but that was nothing next to the force that had driven Cell.

Perfection wasn't just a state for him. It was his goal, his ambition, his life's work. For as long as he had existed, perfection had consumed him, he had lived for it, fighting for it, struggled for it. Killed so many humans in search of it, even in those dark days of his imperfect form. Now, he had achieved it, and he felt…

Well, that was the problem, he supposed.

He didn't feel different.

Stronger, yes. Absolutely. His new body was full of power, even the smallest percentage of his new strength out-massed his old maximum considerably. But perfection wasn't decided by power alone, as he'd proved to Vegeta and the boy, Trunks. Though, Trunks had accessed a form with much greater power than Cell's own, the android had still soundly trounced him simply for the fact that he was faster, and smarter. Raw strength didn't matter in the face of perfection.

Yet, that fight now presented a troubling hypothesis. At first, Cell had ignored it, though he'd noticed it right away. The rush of achieving his perfect form left such thoughts in the wayside, but as time went on, the thought had become more and more trouble. Like a thorn in the side that you couldn't quite pull out, though you shifted and try. Eventually, he had to face it.

How did you define ''perfection'' exactly? Cell was perfect. He _knew_ that he was perfect. Every fibre of his being, every cell bathed in that perfection.

But was the knowledge of his perfection merely the end-state of Gero's programming? Yet another trick to make sure that his creations did as they were told? The thought was irksome, and wouldn't leave him be. True, Gero had much trouble controlling his androids. His death at the hands of Seventeen and Eighteen proved that. Was it in his character to try an alternative method of control for his masterpiece? To keep him so consumed with an impossible goal, that he wouldn't even think to target Gero?

After all, all that Gero wanted was the death of Goku. Perfection wasn't required for that. All that was needed was ''Good enough.''

Cell hated good enough.

It meant compromising.

It meant admitting you weren't strong or smart or fast enough to do better.

The thought that he himself might just be the result of that thinking…. It worried at him in a way that little else could.

If he was perfect, how could Trunks be stronger than him when they had clashed? If he was perfect, why did he not feel that different once you got right down to it, and cut through the expanded power level? He'd always thought that perfection and power were connected, but not the same. So why did he not feel any more perfect than before?

Trunks had been stronger than him, and this meant that in at least one aspect, Trunks was superior. Or, to put it in a much more galling way, Cell was _inferior._ Was it possible to be outmatched and still be perfect?

In the face of it, no. Perfection meant that there was no more room for improvement, that you could go no further because you'd already gone as far as possible. If Trunks was stronger, that meant there was room for improvement. If there was room for improvement, then he was by definition, not perfect.

The counter-argument was, of course, that perfection was not merely one trait, but a mixture of them. Just so much power, just the right amount of speed. Namekian regeneration, and Saiyan DNA. That was perfection. Needless to say, the thought appealed, but Cell was logical too, and recognised his own bias.

He wanted to be perfect, needed it, but now he was starting to wonder if Gero had really set him on a pointless quest. If his creator had lied to him in the name of fulfilling his own goal. The destruction of Goku.

It would be nice to say that Gero wouldn't do such a thing. It would also be lying. Gero was a peerless scientist, and possessed an intelligence that could rival Cell's own, but he also had a commendable lack of mercy, and a willingness to do anything to achieve his goals. In some ways, Gero and his creation mirrored each other. Obsessed with their chosen objective regardless of anything else in their way.

Was it in character for Gero to set him a pointless goal, if he killed Goku along the way?

Absolutely.

Compounding this worrying theory, Cell had no programming to kill Goku. It was the one thing that every android Gero had created shared. From Thirteen to Nineteen, who was merely a rebuilt version of Gero himself. All of them had deep, deep programming instructing them to destroy Goku, at whatever the cost.

Why did Cell not have that? He was Gero's masterpiece, the perfect and ultimate culmination of all of his work. Why would you go to so much trouble to build something like him, and that not add the finishing touches?

Unless, of course, you didn't need to. Unless you already had ensured that they would come into conflict with your target. After all, if anyone could understand the relentless drive to perfection that Cell felt every waking hour, it would be Gero. If anyone could wield that as a tool, it would be the same.

If anyone could predict that such a drive would eventually bring him into conflict with the self-proclaimed saviour of earth, it would be the doctor as well…

Cell's memory was long. It wasn't just a subject of the brain, the things he knew were encoded into his very DNA. His memories, his personality, his sense of self. All of these things were virtually impossible to destroy so long as even a chunk of him remained. While, his regeneration was slightly more limited, it didn't change the fact that every part of Cell knew exactly what it was, and where it had come from.

Buried deep within him, there was the oldest part. The core of his being which had once existed in the form of a genetically engineered embryo, suspended in a tank of murky green sustaining fluid, watched over by Gero's Computer due to the good doctor's own death some years before. That computer had contained a carefully encoded copy of Gero's personality. It had, for all intents and purposes, been Gero.

Night after night, as it carefully monitored his growth, added new genetic material to his collective, it would speak to him. At first, he could not understand. He was not yet capable, but he remembered, and later, when he was finally capable of it, he came to understand those words that had been whispered to him.

They had been promises of power. Of future glories, of all that he could be, should he absorb androids Seventeen and Eighteen. At the time, it had seemed natural. Those promises of perfection.

He'd never thought to question why.

Doctor Gero was a man intent on revenge; he certainly didn't care about perfection for its own merits. Only so long as it helped him to meet his objective.

Which led him back to his first fear. That he was being used as a tool in the hands of a dead man to achieve a goal he didn't care about. That his own quest for perfection was ultimately fruitless, and that once it was over, he would have nothing left. Cell couldn't comprehend a universe in which he could never be perfect, it seemed impossibly cruel and cold.

Though, outwardly Cell was still impassive as ever, within, he was in turmoil. Just as the raw force and power of his Perfect Form surged through every muscle and vein, Cell knew with absolute clarity that he could now destroy Goku. In fact, he was planning to do it tomorrow, during the games he'd named after himself. It had been a half-formed idea that he'd decided to follow up, a fun way to break in his new form. To show the world the terror he could bring.

The Cell Games. Himself vs the strongest fighters of the planet. One by one, he'd take on and crush them all. Their number would inevitably include Goku.

Now, he was wondering if the idea was even his to begin with.

Gero had been unable to control Seventeen and Eighteen with hard-coded programming. He'd tried, but they had been human once, and resisted. The attempt had ultimately ended with his death. Having witnessed this, had the computer he'd based on himself learned from its master's demise? Had it tried instead, something more subtle? Deeply buried subconscious orders, intending to subtly drive him towards killing the man Gero had spent his life trying to destroy?

Was he even perfect at all, or was that just another tool by Gero to make him step up into the fight?

No, it couldn't go on like this. Cell had come to the conclusion that he would have to have his answer. Tomorrow would bring it. He'd step out into the battle, and one of three outcomes would take place. Either he would win, defeat all comers, and be assured of his own perfection, or else he would win, and feel no different. He was sure that this would not happen; that the battle with Trunks and Vegeta was still holding him fast in some deep part of his heart.

 _Merely having more power than me does not mean that they are more perfect. Perfection is a mixture of traits, all carefully blended together. I'll prove it to the world tomorrow, right before I destroy them all._

The third possible outcome – included only out of a sense of completeness, for it was laughably unlikely, was that he would lose tomorrow. Cell would call it impossible, but on balance, he was forced to admit that it was mildly within the realms of possibility. Not likely, but physics didn't actually have any rules against it.

Yes. Tomorrow. He'd shake off the shadow of Gero, and prove to himself that he was perfect in reality as well as in name.

Tomorrow would be the dawn of his true, perfect, self.


End file.
